Page 49 of The Rancher's Heart

Nathan had already sunk every penny he could find into the Triple L. Jonas didn’t want to poke at his brother’s slow-simmering anger by suggesting he and Blake bail them out. Mostly because there was no guarantee he and Blake, even with his current offer, could sell their property in time to pay off the bank loan.

Blake leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, and stared at Jonas. “What are you thinking?”

He sighed heavily, eyeing his brothers steadily. “I don’t want to leave the Triple L.” Despite everything at the end, he would bet their dad hadn’t wanted to sell off parts of the place, either. “And I know you guys don’t want that, either. We’re awfully close to pulling the ranch out of the hole. If we let it ride for now and stick to the plan, we could come out of this with the Triple L above water. But if our plan doesn’t work, Nathan, you have to promise you won’t let your pride get in the way.”

Nathan gave a sharp nod. “We won’t lose the ranch. We’ve come too far to lose it now.”

“I agree,” Blake inserted. “What’s next?”

“We wait to hear from the lab,” Jonas said. “We probably can’t rush them, but I’ll call tomorrow to see where they are in the process.”

Blake rose to lean on the fireplace mantel. “And if we don’t get the results by the time the rodeo starts?”

“We’ll hang in there.” Jonas joined him and clapped his brother on the shoulder. “We agree, then. We hope that Duke and Grace place well in the barrel racing competition, and we spread the news that we’re in the process of starting a new Colorado Rangerbred breeding program.”

“That’s taking a big risk,” Blake reminded them.

“Maybe,” Nathan agreed. “But the idea is sound. Izzy is making flyers to give out before and at the rodeo, promoting the Triple L, The Wedding Cottage, and all the riding and training lessons the ranch has to offer. It wouldn’t be too hard to add a paragraph about breeding Rangerbreds.”

“Are you going to have the kids pass out the flyers? I can ask Clara to help.”

Blake nodded. “Good idea.”

His brothers took off. Jonas had a week before the rodeo started to get back on Sloane’s good side—time enough to draw up a petition to the court in Durango. CDHS had already approved physical custody. He didn’t think getting kinship guardianship for Clara would be a problem. Like all legal things, it would just take time for all the steps involved.

He’d let Sloane know once he submitted the petition. In person. Hopefully, on a day when she couldn’t use beingbusyas an excuse to hold him off.

At the office, he called the lab. They assured him the results would be in the mail by the next Monday, only two days before the rodeo started. The worst-case scenario would be that the results didn’t get to him until the barrel competition was completed. He would deal with that if it worked out that way.

Filing Sloane’s petition for kinship guardianship was a little more complex, but the bottom line was that from the time of filing to the hearing was usually three-to-five weeks. Good news he couldn’t wait to share with Sloane. He missed his easy relationship with his best girl. He wanted that back and more.

After filing the petition, he took a break and walked the few blocks to Wolfe River to clear his head. The river ran west to east through Strawberry Ridge. An empty bench drew Jonas into the park that bordered the river’s edge. The late summer months’ temperature was perfect, and the sun bright overhead. Ducks quacked for scraps of bread, while delicious aromas from the food court just down the way made his stomach rumble.

He’d been mad at his parents for leaving him in charge of his rowdy brothers when he was barely twenty-one. Hard to admit, but it was true. Then, he failed his first test right out of the gate when he sent Blake away for a mistake that any of them could have made. He toldhis brothernever to come back. Fortunately, Blake had met Timmy’s sister, and together, they’d made a life before she’d passed too. And then he met and married Malorie. He was happy.

He and Sloane could be happy too. If he could convince her to talk to him.

He got in line at the Burrito Shack and ordered two chicken burritos. Women loved flowers, holding hands while they talked, and promises from their guy that everything would be okay. If he did nothing else, Jonas vowed to make sure that Sloane would know she could trust him, even when he did something crazy, like pretending they were engaged. No more taking the low road when the high road was just as accessible.

He checked the time on his phone, and as he was about to let her know he was on his way, he changed his mind. Better to surprise her and insist she take a break for lunch. Once she saw her favorite food, she wouldn’t be able to make excuses not to join him.

He’d always wanted to be her friend first and anything else second. It was time to put a stop to that.

He picked up his Mustang at the office and drove the short distance to Michaels’ Garage. Sure enough, Sloane had a vehicle in the air, working on he didn’t know what. Other than maintenance, car repair was Greek to Jonas.

“Hi. I brought lunch.” He held out the bag he carried. “Your favorite. Chicken burritos.”

“I’m not talking to you, Jonas.” She stared at him for a long minute, then waved her hand at the hybrid truck she was working on. “I have a lot to do on this one. I don’t have time to stop for lunch.”

“You have to—” He was about to say shehadto talk to him because they were best friends, but that wouldn’t earn him a conversation. “Fifteen minutes, I promise. You don’t want to burn out. And you can munch on what’s left for the rest of the day.”

Wiping her hands on the ever-present rag, she reluctantly gave in, probably not because of his winning smile, but... he heard the growl in her stomach and smothered a victory smile. “Okay, fifteen minutes, that’s all.”

“Let’s eat at the table in the back garden.” He handed Sloane the bag of burritos, then poked his head into the waiting area. “Dean, I’m taking the boss out back for a lunch break.”

Phone pressed between his shoulder and ear, Dean waved him away.

When she was in high school, Sloane had taken a horticulture class. Her dad had encouraged her to put what she learned to use in a patch of grass behind the garage. He caught up with her at the round table under the cover of a gazebo that had been added since. Potted plants bloomed all around.

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